A Mystery in Bohemia
by barus
Summary: NO SLASH! Sherlock/OC. Set several years after TTG. John and Sherlock set for Bohemia to solve the case and meanwhile they encounter someone from not so very distant past whom they thought never to encounter again...  and it is not Golem
1. 1 Into the Wilderness

**AN**: Hello, this is my first fanfiction after many years and it would be fair to warn you that I haven't finished the last one however much I had intended to. I should say that right now I fully intend to finish this one.

Anyway, this one is with Sherlock falling for a GIRL - not John, and the girl is my own creation (so no Irene) - here should come the **disclaimer**: Sherlock and John belongs to ever so brilliant sir A.C. Doyle and their modern versions to no less brilliant Mr. Gattis and Mr. Moffat. Also the plot can be partly inspired by said gentlemen's work.

I intend this story to be also a mystery with everything that comes with it however I'm afraid I'm perhaps not brilliant enough so I ask for your patience and forgivness in advance.

I must also apologise for any gramatical or spelling mistakes - please feel free to point them out - I usually go through my writing several times but as the english is not my native language it is possible that there will be some. If there are too many I will find a beta.

Finally, I've read many many fanfiction and one of the things that usually disturbes me most is when Sherlock (or any other main character for that matter) is OOC. So, I promise I will try very hard to keep him in character but if he does something that doesn't quite fit I beg you to tell me and will do my best to correct it. Enjoy reading!

**AN2:** After much consideration, I decided to locate the case in Bohemia – not that I would want to promote my country this way, or that I wish so much for Sherlock to come here but because I feel I can be more faithful and accurate as I know my country better. The formal location was the Lakes but I've been there only once and I feel that I would have to make up many things and all in all, it is better this way, believe me.

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><p>"Remind me again, Sherlock, why do I even bother?" I muttered as I turned the steering wheel of the little Fiat we were currently sitting in to the right and used again its claxon – just in case there was another car in the opposite direction. The roads here were narrow and old trees that had been planted decades ago to create a shadow over them and possibly enable to discern them in winter, now grew right next to the verges and the roots were slowly but surely mining their way beneath the tarmac.<p>

I didn't expect any answer because Sherlock's mind was clearly elsewhere judging by the fact that he hadn't even bother to remind me that the people here didn't usually use the claxon for that purpose and that I was more likely to alarm them then anything alse, and so I continued hoping that if I am persistent enough some of my words will actually penetrate through.

"You know, you haven't even told me what this is all about…" Nothing. _Nice try, John_, I told myself, _one of many and as inefficient as its preceding brothers. Why do I bother_, I repeated the question this time only in my head.

"I'm sure you would do fine without me. Just this once, you know…" I let the end of the sentence flow in the air expectantly and it must have somehow sneaked into Sherlock's ear, because he finally emerged from his thinking-and-not-bothering-to-listen-even-to-his-best-friend-(only-friend-for-that-matter)-state.

"No, I wouldn't," he stretched the words lazily. " I need a driver here, in this… wilderness," he added after a slight pause and looked at the beautiful scenery around in dismay.

I stepped on the break rather more forcefully than was needed and rode through the curve rather more closely to the local vegetation than was healthy for the car's paint but didn't bother as all the scratching happened on the Sherlock's side.

"You know I could have been with Sarah right now," I pointed out as calmly as I was able to.

"Relax, John. Sarah's just fine. She can take care of herself and anyone else she happens upon," said Sherlock with suddenly a happy smile on his face; however, the reminder of her current predicament didn't make _me _happy.

"That's not the point. I'm her husband and I should be by her side in case something goes wrong." I stated firmly and made a point of looking straight ahead.

"Oh, come on, she has another three months ahead. What could possibly go wrong?" After hearing his last remark I turned to him sharply fully intending to scorn him but thought better of it. I knew him too well.

"However, something has gone wrong here, John," he mused and the corners of his lips twitched upwards as he again looked out the window at the landscape passing by, "and I'm intending to set it right, because it is my work to do so and I'm its husband."

"Whose husband?" I asked momentally confused.

"My work's, John!" Sherlock replied impatiently.

"Oh,"

And in a small car Sherlock drew his long legs beneath him, joined the tips of his fingers as he was used to doing in his armchair and his attention drifted off.

I gave up; however, there was one more point I was determined to press further. "This is _no_ wilderness, Sherlock, this is countryside." Sherlock rolled his eyes_. So, he paid attention._

"Rocks and mountains…?"

"Yes, what are people compared to that?" I quoted but Sherlock continued as if he hadn't heard me.

"…bushes, trees…and cows?" Sherlock waved with his hand. "It is what I call wilderness."

"Oh, you're such a city rat, Sherlock! We're still in Europe!" And before he turned his head away from my gaze I was sure I had seen a slight smirk. _Oh, he missed me. And so did I __miss __him._

For those of you, my readers, who know a little of Europe's geography, we were currently in Bohemia, in Highlands and I still didn't know the reason for this trip but fervently hoped it had nothing to do with the Golem. An assassin some of you perhaps remember from a very nasty case few years ago.

I had been married for about five months to Sarah and she was currently expecting our first child which was to come in about three month. It would take a mind less intelligent and sharp than that of my friend to be able to deduce that the baby had been conceived before the marriage - a fact not unusaul in our days but nevertheless one that cost me no little amount of smirks on Sherlock's part. I could tell him for a millionth time that the baby had been intended and things hadn't been as he implied but he still didn't seem to believe me and all in all, the whole situation amused him greatly. I will not repeat here what he had to say.

I guess I should have been glad that he saw a humor in all of it because despite his usually stony and emotionless face and cut remarks I thought that he had been a little saddened by my moving out of our common flat on 221B Baker Street; although, I suspected it was mainly because there would be no one to pass him a pen or borrow him his phone. In other respects our lives went as before – I was getting the strangest of text messages from him, I was chasing criminals across London with him, I was helping him to solve the cases and during those five months he developed an annoying habit of sneaking into my office in various hours to demand help or attention or simply because he was bored. Strangely, Sarah didn't mind all that much that from time to time I spend a great amount of time with him – that is, if it wasn't too often. Since our first date that hadn't ended very well these two developed a strange relationship. I wouldn't call it exactly a friendship because Sherlock was never really one for that but the point was that Sherlock _surprisingly_ tolerated Sarah and she in return tolerated him which was more than I could ever hope for. They had an unspoken agreement that scared me sometimes.

For the last two months however, there weren't many cases and lot of work instead, so I haven't seen much of Sherlock. Sarah began to show and I spend all the remaining time contemplating all kinds of what-could-go-wrong scenarios. So, when Sherlock burst into our flat demanding me going with him to the continent to solve a case, Sarah agreed and even encouraged me to go saying that I was in anyway only fretting over her and worrying for no reason and that I needed a case to divert me.

And so I ended up here, in this car, with this man and though I tried very hard to be annoyed at him and at Sarah, a no small part of me was thrilled at the prospect of the days to come and the mystery it would involve.

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><p><strong> AN<strong>: So...let me know what you think? I will be grateful for every review.


	2. 2 Three Murders

AN: so, I decided to relocate my story for the reasons I wrote in the first chapter - it is updated with small changes, so please read again if you will. Here is the next chapter. I hope you will enjoy it - it's still in the beginning but I hope that in the next chapter things start to happen.

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><p>"So," I decided to continue in our previous conversation when I finished unpacking my suitcase and sat down comfortably on my bed, "what's wrong here, then?"<p>

Sherlock gave me a quick smile and closed his suitcase with a loud bang. Then with one swift movement jumped over his bed facing me and began:

"About a month ago a body of a young woman was found in the pool in the forest four kilometers from here. According to the coroner she drowned herself. It caused a scandal, of course – in such a small society as this one it is a sensation but nobody thought anything was amiss - apart from the dead woman of course. Local police inspector said it was a clear suicide as there were no signs of any violence on her body and that was the end of it."

"But?" I asked.

"Let's take a stroll, shall we?" He tossed me my jacket, took his coat and shawl and left our room with me on his heels. We were accommodated in a local hotel – the only one in miles and now we took a path across its gardens in general direction of a near town called Pocatky. I took time to admire the beautiful autumn nature that surrounded us.

This Highland perhaps hadn't the dramatic beauty of the Scottish one but it certainly had a charm of its own. I recalled a student that once had lived in 221C Baker Street after Mrs. Hudson had finally got rid of all the mildew. Her grandparents were from the South Bohemia and she used to spend her holiday there when she was little. I felt a small smile forming on my lips. All it took was to pour into her two glasses of wine and play Dvorak and she was capable of talking about the nature in her grandparents' homeland all evening.

We finally climbed up the hill and beneath us there was a little town with plump church tower and little houses with red roofs. Several roads were coming from it to all directions with alleys of old fruit trees and larches along them. The town was favorably situated in a small valley and looked charming all together. _Sarah __would __like __it._I sighed and looked up at my friend who was lost in his own world. Whether he was admiring the view or musing about the case I could not tell for he was standing with his hands behind his back a little away from me a small smile on his lips. For a while we just stood there and then Sherlock moved again and called: "Come on, John, we have a meeting!"

I briskly set out down the hill and when I caught up with him I looked at him expectantly hoping that he would tell me more about the case.

Sherlock smiled and rubbed his hands. "More than two weeks ago another young woman drowned herself. In the same pool."

"What a coincidence…"I muttered.

"Yes," Sherlock grinned, "and finally three days ago another woman was inspired to do the same."

"In the same pool."

"Yes." I saw a gleam in his eyes.

"There's more to it. " I stated. "There has to be something interesting about it otherwise you wouldn't be here. Did they have anything in common?" I tried.

"As a matter of fact, they did. That's not the interesting part though but they were all patients in the local Spa resort of St. Catherine."

"And what's the interesting part?"

"The interesting part, John, is that a large group of young girls arrives tonight to St. Catherine's and with them a not smaller group of journalists watching their every step. According to the owner of the Spa the girls are all participants of some international beauty contest and he fears that they could be in danger.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I interrupted him, "I think I've read about it in the papers few days ago. You say that this is the spa, where the participants of _Miss __Europe_, Sherlock, are supposed to spend a week before the final ceremony in Prague!" I asked surprised but Sherlock didn't seem interested.

"If you say so. I don't pay any attention to such things. But if one of those girls decided to commit such a _suicide_, it would be a scandal, John." That was probably more interesting.

"And the owner would be ruined?"

"Exactly."

"So, he thinks they are murders." I looked up at him. _Here __we __go __again._

"Oh, yes. And the organizers of the contest too, though they know nothing about it. They're just afraid of scandal and loss of their money. However, I also think they are not suicides but let's not jump to conclusions before we know more."

We found a road that surely led to the town and soon we passed a large pond and some agricultural buildings. We turned to the left and saw a square with that plumb church tower. Near the fountain in front of it stood a man in black mid-length coat who upon seeing us waved and headed in our direction.

"You know, I would never think that you would find a group of girls interesting." I smirked.

"What?" Sherlock paused. "No! It's the case that interests me! Not some dull girls. They are interesting as another piece in the play but no… oh, forget it!" The man was already close enough to hear us and see our facial expressions, so Sherlock shut up and I tried not to look too smug.

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><p>Don't worry, my OC girl won't be one of those - they are really almost uninteresting for our story.<p>

And btw. Please review, so I know this isn't a complete crab. Perhaps it is but, please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.


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